Highlander: The Series: By Invitation Only
by Adam Tuttle
Summary: An old girlfriend of MacLeod decides to open the first club


Disclaimer: I didn't steal anything, I love this show blah blah blah.   
Becides, if you think you can sue me, knock yourself out, I've got   
enough money to hire Johnny Cochrane AND Matlock if I wanted to.  
  
Characters: Methos (My Creation, SHUT-UP! Let me dream!) , Duncan   
MacLeod, Joe, EGI= Garthington, Kyle (My Favorite Creation), Anna   
Petrovik (My Creation)  
  
Rating: Pg-13 due to some swearing, though nothing you won't hear on   
'Friends'  
  
Summary: An old girlfriend of MacLeod decides to open the first club   
that caters only to Immortals. A renegade Immortal with delusions of   
grandeur (don't they all have these?) kills an Immortal leaving the   
club. The woman's lifetime dream goes down the toilet so she decides to   
hunt down the evil guy. Guess who she thinks it is? That's right, the   
oldest Immortal, of course. Kyle also shows up, and has to deal with   
knowledge that MacLeod has killed his one-time friend, Richie Ryan.  
  
TimeLine: After series ended, but everyone is still in Seacouver   
because I can't speak French and thus have a racism thing towards all   
things French.  
  
My Thoughts: My second story, as always, feedback it totally wanted   
here, damnit.  
  
This is the first story that I've used MacLeod in so I don't know if I   
did him quite right, please, let me know.  
  
Cynergy@home.com  
  
  
By Invitation Only  
  
  
Methos slipped through the double doors into Joe's Bar and began   
slipping between the groups of people, making his way to the smiling   
bearded man who sometimes called him friend.  
  
"Adam," Joe nodded to the oldest Immortal as he took a seat beside him,   
slapping a fresh beer into his waiting hand. "Where's MacLeod? I   
thought he was driving you here?"  
  
"I don't know," Methos grunted, twisting the cap off the beer.   
"Probably stopped to save somebody or help a sick puppy."  
  
"That's Mac all right," Joe grinned back. "What does he want, anyway?"  
  
"Don't know, he just called me and told me to be here."  
  
"I think he wants to introduce us to someone." Joe guessed. "New   
girlfriend or something maybe."  
  
"That man gets more wear than a pair of old jeans." Methos grunted,   
taking a large swig of beer.  
  
"Is that a touch of jealousy in your voice?" Joe laughed, poking Methos   
on the shoulder.  
  
The oldest Immortal opened his mouth to respond when he felt the buzz   
of another of his kind nearby.  
  
"That MacLeod?" Joe asked, seeing Methos' expression and suddenly   
narrowed eyes gaze at the far doors.  
  
"Probably," Methos shrugged, not taking his eyes off the doors.  
  
The doors parted to let Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod through,   
with him was a striking woman, dressed in red with a black cloak.   
Methos noted the other woman's Immortal presence and was preparing to   
flee but a restraining hand from Joe prevented him from beating a hasty   
retreat.  
  
"Joe, Adam," Duncan nodded to his friend and motioned to the woman   
standing beside him. "This is Anna Petrovik."  
  
"Nice to meet you Anna, I'm Joe Dawson." Joe shook her hand, "have you   
known MacLeod long?"  
  
"Seems like centuries," She smiled and nodded.  
  
"Its okay," Duncan reassured her. "He knows."  
  
"Oh, in that case," Anna's smile deepened. "It *has* been centuries."  
  
"Two or so I would imagine," Duncan agreed.  
  
"Two and a half, technically. And you are?" Anna asked, casting her   
gaze upon Methos.  
  
"Adam Pierson, just leaving actually." Methos shook her hand quickly   
before scooping up his coat.  
  
"You've still got half a beer here." Joe motioned to the beer forgotten   
on the counter.  
  
Methos quickly downed the beer in a gulp, smiled at Joe and left   
without a word.  
  
"Interesting fellow," Anna commented after watching Methos slide   
through the crowd and out the door. "Is he new to the Game? He seems   
pretty skittish."  
  
"You got the skittish part right," Joe laughed. "So, what brings you to   
town, Anna?"  
  
"I'm opening a club," she replied. "For Immortals."  
  
Joe glanced at MacLeod's concerned face before replying, "really?   
Sounds like that's going to be interesting. It'll definitely make   
Watching easier on us."  
  
"Watching?" Anna asked, looking from Joe to Duncan.  
  
"Watchers. We, um, watch Immortals." Joe replied, extending his arm to   
show the little blue tattoo on his wrist. "We record your lives."  
  
"Its okay, they don't interfere," Duncan added, noticing the tension in   
Anna's eyes. "Most of the time anyway. Joe's a little different."  
  
"When does your club open?" Joe asked, smoothly changing the subject.  
  
"In about three months, its in the last stages of construction right   
now," Anna replied.  
  
"Its being built on holy ground," Duncan added.  
  
"For protection," Anna finished.  
  
"Well, I'll welcome the competition." Joe grinned, impressed at Anna's   
sense of purpose.  
  
"Thanks, you're invited to the opening night of course."  
  
"I wouldn't want to impose," Joe shook his head lightly.   
  
"No, you wouldn't be. Actually, since you know who we are you could be   
in charge of sending out some flyers for me." Anna smiled.  
  
"Anna," Duncan said sternly. "He can't do that."  
  
"The no interference clause," Joe grinned.   
  
"It was worth a shot," Anna shrugged easily. "But you're still invited   
to the opening, so is your friend, Adam."  
  
"Well, I don't know about him," Joe nodded. "But I'll be there."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Anna smiled. "I've really got to get going now,   
Duncan. Early morning tomorrow, I've got to start ordering stock."  
  
"I'll drive you home," Duncan nodded, ever the chivalrous boyscout.   
"See you tomorrow Joe."  
  
"You two have a good night, I'm looking forward to seeing your club.   
What's it called?" Joe asked curiously.  
  
"Timeless."  
  
  
~~~~~~~  
Three months later, give or take  
~~~~~~~  
  
Duncan pulled up to the valet in front of the brightly lit club.   
A large neon sign hung above the doorway that read, 'TimeLess.' Still   
reeling from the buzz of the dozens of Immortals around, he shakily   
passed the keys to the young man parking the cars, almost missing the   
small Watcher tattoo on his wrist.  
  
"Joe," Duncan said lightly, tossing the Watcher a sidelong glance. "Do   
you have something to tell me?"  
  
"What?" Joe returned with an innocent expression. "Come on, we don't   
want to keep our host waiting."  
  
With a laugh and a shake of his head, Duncan lead the way into the   
club. After a moment in the doorway his eyes began to adjust and he was   
pleasantly surprised at the calming atmosphere inside the club. As far   
as Immortals went, he'd never imagined them to be trusting enough to   
stand around drinking and talking together. He noticed Anna sitting in   
the middle of a crowd near the bar, when she saw him she motioned for   
him to come over.  
  
"Duncan! Over here!"  
  
"Anna, this is great." He replied enthusiastically, pulling the slim   
woman into an embrace.  
  
"I'm glad you both made it," Anna said sincerely, shaking Joe's hand.  
  
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," Joe smiled. "Oh my God- Is that   
Neptalias over there? Nobody has seen him in at *least* four   
centuries."  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah, that's him. He's a quiet guy. Oh where are my manners.   
This is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Anna said, motioning to   
the four Immortals that stood around her. "And Joe Dawson, his friend."  
  
"Right, the Highlander." One man nodded, "I've heard of you. You took   
Kalas' Quickening right?"  
  
"He was such a bad ass, glad somebody did it." Another agreed.  
  
"Sorry to hear about Fitz," a woman interrupted, joining the group. "He   
was a close friend of yours wasn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, he was." Duncan nodded, remembering his old friend. "He'll not   
be forgotten."  
  
"No, his ego will live forever," the woman laughed.  
  
"Excuse me," a young looking man moved beside Joe. "There's a rumor   
circulating that you're Methos. You're, um, not are you?"  
  
"No, I'm not Immortal." Joe laughed, "but thanks."  
  
"I really didn't think *he'd* show up," the man continued. "I mean,   
he's like a million years old, right? That's gotta inspire paranoia."  
  
"You're probably right," Joe agreed.  
  
"Okay, well, sorry." The man said quietly before wandering back to   
another group.  
  
"That was David Cassidy," Joe nudged Duncan. "He just became Immortal   
last year, he lives in California with his sister, Jane."  
  
"Having fun?" Duncan smiled at his friend.  
  
"This is a goldmine. I wish I brought a camera," Joe nodded in   
agreement.  
  
  
  
Hours later, MacLeod and Anna sat alone at a booth, watching the   
apprehensive Immortals mingle with each other.  
  
"Anna," Duncan began. "This is amazing, I didn't think they'd all get   
along so well."  
  
"Why not? This is the first place where we can all just be ourselves,   
no pretending. I always *knew* it would be like this. Can you imagine   
all the knowledge and lifetimes in this room?"  
  
"Its amazing," Duncan repeated sincerely.  
  
"Tell you the truth, I *was* hoping that Methos would make an   
appearance."  
  
"You still believe that he's real, or still alive?" Duncan asked,   
carefully eyeing Anna out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"We all need our myths." Anna shrugged, downing the last of her   
martini. "Looks like your Watcher friend is in seventh heaven over   
there." She added, motioning to Joe who sat in a corner watching   
everything intently.  
  
"He's loving this." Duncan agreed.  
  
"I'm glad he could - Oh. My. God. There's Marcus, I haven't seen him in   
seven hundred years. Will you excuse me for a second?"  
  
"Absolutely," Duncan nodded, watching Anna pass through the crowd after   
an old friend.  
  
  
  
"You're MacLeod?" A young man with long dark hair asked, dropping into   
the newly vacant seat across from Duncan.  
  
"Duncan MacLeod, yes." Duncan nodded, extending his hand to the man.   
"And you are?"  
  
"Kyle." The man replied simply, not extending his own hand. "Is Adam   
Pierson here?"  
  
"No, he had something else to do." Duncan replied, wary of the   
dangerous look Kyle gave him. "Have we met before? I'm sorry, I don't   
remember."  
  
"He's still in Seacouver then?" Kyle asked, looking around the bar   
cautiously.  
  
"Maybe," Duncan replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Who are you?"  
  
"A friend of Richie's." Kyle responded, his tone hard. "Just tell Adam   
I'm in town." Before Duncan could respond Kyle stood and blended with   
the crowd.  
  
"Hey Mac, where'd Anna go?" Joe clapped his friend on the back as he   
sat.  
  
"To talk to someone," Duncan replied distracted.  
  
"You okay?" Joe asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his   
worried friend.  
  
"Just met a friend of Richie's." Duncan said quietly.  
  
"Did he leave a name?" Joe asked.  
  
"Kyle," Duncan shrugged. "No last name."  
  
"So you met Kyle huh? Joe said with a thoughtful expression. "I didn't   
think he'd show up here, didn't think this was his kind of party."  
  
"He said he was looking for Adam." Duncan answered, scanning the crowd   
for Kyle. "Who is this guy? He said he was Richie's friend, does he   
know-"  
  
He showed up one time while you were away, that time that we didn't   
know where you went, remember? About four years ago?" Joe paused while   
Duncan tried to remember. "He was pre-immortal and died so Richie and   
Adam were his first teachers. When Richie, um, died, Adam and I called   
to explain the situation with Aerimon but Kyle didn't really believe   
it."  
  
"I can't use Aerimon as an excuse forever, " Duncan shook his head. "I   
was in control when I killed Richie, its still my fault."  
  
"Damnit MacLeod, your too stubborn for your own good. The only person   
who blames you for Richie's death is you," Joe said firmly.  
  
"Apparently not, Joe." Duncan replied, feigning a smile.  
  
Suddenly, a tall dark-skinned Immortal burst into the crowded bar,   
pushing through the crowd.  
  
"Andrew is dead!" The man yelled, straining to be heard over the music.   
"I found him by the highway, someone took his Quickening!"  
  
Silver and chrome flashes passed through the crowd as every Immortal   
pulled his or her weapon, preparing themselves against any threat.  
  
"No!" Anna yelled, climbing onto a table and holding her petite hands   
out. "Nobody do anything, we'll-We'll get to the bottom of this."  
  
A few Immortals lowered their swords but most stood at the ready.  
  
"She's right," Duncan yelled. "We can't fight here anyway, its holy   
ground."  
  
"Then by all means, let's step off holy ground." One man who Duncan   
didn't recognize replied. "I had my reservations about coming tonight   
and I'm not surprised to see I was right."  
  
"Well I had no reservations about this," another man said. "I'm not as   
old or experienced as some of you but I always thought we could do   
this, live without the fighting."  
  
"Dream on, kid." A woman replied quietly as she moved to the exit, eyes   
downcast.  
  
"Andrew was a good man," said another as he followed the woman through   
the sea of retreating Immortals. "I hope this, your dream club, was   
worth his death, Anna."  
  
Slowly, most of the swords were put away and everyone filed out   
quietly, sharing the silence of the night.  
  
Anna quietly watched her dream of an Immortal club die away with each   
Immortal that left.   
  
MacLeod swiftly moved to her side, wiping a tear away from her eye   
softly. "I'm sorry this happened," he said sadly.  
  
Anna turned towards her old friend and buried her face into his chest,   
sobbing quietly.  
  
Joe watched their embrace from his seat in the corner. He wasn't sure   
exactly who Andrew was but felt the loss none the less, all life was   
important to him.  
  
'Well,' Joe thought to himself. 'Easy enough to get to the bottom of   
this.'  
  
Pulling open his cellular phone, Joe quickly dialed one of the other   
Watchers he'd posted to the party. "Charlie? Its Dawson, have you heard   
anything about the fight?"  
  
"Which one?" Charlie, a veteran Watcher asked with just a touch of   
sarcasm in his scratchy voice. "Since everyone started leaving there's   
been four, no, five Quickenings."  
  
"I mean the first one, it happened before everyone left. Someone named   
Andrew lost his head."  
  
"Sorry Joe, I didn't catch that one," Charlie replied. "Check with   
Dale, he's been sneaking around this place all night."  
  
"Thanks anyway Charlie," Joe said. "I'll give him a call. You guys be   
careful out there tonight, lot of nervous Immortals running around   
tonight."  
  
With an unconscious grimace of distaste, Joe called the Watcher Dale   
Conners. The man was relatively new to the Watcher organization and was   
a friendly polite guy but he gave Joe and most of the other Watchers   
the creeps. Dale always seemed to be in the right place at exactly the   
right time and he always seemed to know more than he should about   
everything from High Council news to details of a Watcher's personal   
life.  
  
"Dale Conners here," came the cheerful but slightly out of breath   
reply. "Talk to me Joe."  
  
"Hey Dale," Joe replied, somewhat surprised that Dale knew it was him   
calling. "I need some info on the first fight tonight, got anything for   
me?"  
  
"Not much I'm afraid," Dale replied with regret in his soft voice. "I   
missed the actual fight but I was all over your friend until then."  
  
"My friend?" Joe asked in confusion.  
  
"Yeah, that Pierson guy." Dale replied matter-of-factly. "You did know   
he was here, didn't you?"  
  
"Did he fight Andrew? Are you sure it was him?" Joe asked, ignoring   
Dale's question.  
  
"Like I said, I missed the actual fight but I didn't see anyone else   
around, just those two." Dale repeated. "It was definitely Pierson   
though, I followed him around for like fifteen minutes through the   
woods. Trust me, it was him."  
  
"Thanks Dale," Joe said and hung up abruptly.  
  
  
  
"Who would do this?" Anna asked in angry wonderment as Joe approached,   
pocketing his cellular phone.  
  
"I don't know, Anna," Duncan said apologetically. "But we will find   
out. You have my word."  
  
"Anna, I'm sorry for what happened," Joe said quietly. "Mac, we're   
really got to get going."  
  
Duncan looked at Joe with confused eyes but after reading the look of   
utter urgency on his Watcher's face he reluctantly agreed to take Joe   
home.  
  
~~  
  
"You know who did it, don't you?" Duncan asked as he and Joe drove away   
from Anna's club.  
  
"Mac, I-" Joe trailed off and looked out the window.  
  
"I've never asked for information from you if I could help it, Joe. But   
I gave Anna my word on this and, and, I could really use your help."   
Duncan admitted slowly, asking for help having never been his strong   
suit.  
  
"I don't know who was in the fight but there was at least one other   
Immortal wandering around that area." Joe said quietly.  
  
"Who? Joe, please."   
  
Joe stayed silent for a moment longer before turning to his friend and   
admitting reluctantly, "guess who decided to show up after all?"  
  
"Methos," Duncan guessed correctly and pushed down hard on the   
accelerator, pushing the old T-Bird past 100 miles per hour.  
  
"Maybe he didn't do it," Joe suggested hopefully. "The old man probably   
just wanted to see some old friends."  
  
"Maybe," Duncan admitted after a moments thought. "I'm going to find   
out though, one way or the other."  
  
  
  
"I bet he's not even here," Joe said as Duncan pulled his car into the   
parking lot of Joe's Bar.  
  
"He's here," Duncan shook his head. "I can feel him."  
  
"It probably wasn't even Methos at the party, Watchers have been known   
to make mistakes." Joe said as they pushed through the front doors.  
  
Duncan spotted the oldest Immortal sitting alone in his usual corner   
booth, "were you there? Did you kill Andrew?" He asked in angry hushed   
tones.  
  
"Yes and no," Methos replied cheerfully without looking up from his   
beer.  
  
"What were you doing there, you told us you weren't going." Duncan said   
angrily, sitting down opposite the old man.  
  
"Changed my mind," Methos shrugged dismissively. "I didn't get a chance   
to get inside, how was the food?"  
  
"Stop changing the subject damnit. You didn't kill Andrew?" Duncan   
whispered tensely, slamming his hand on the table in frustration.  
  
"Sorry," Methos looked up and smiled innocently. "Its just that I   
missed lunch today. By the way, who's this Andrew fellow you keep   
prattling on about?"  
  
"An Immortal that was at Anna's club tonight, someone took his head."   
Duncan answered, leaning over the table to glare at Methos. "Like you   
didn't know."  
  
"Oh please," Methos snorted. "Taking a head while surrounded by   
Immortals isn't really my style MacLeod. What would your mother think   
about you making all these accusations without any proof?"  
  
"You son of a B-"  
  
"Rolling in her grave no doubt," Methos interrupted, straight faced as   
he stood and moved to join Joe at the bar.  
  
"You didn't do it, right, old man?" Joe asked when Methos dropped onto   
the stool beside him.  
  
"Et tu, Brutus?" Methos asked, feigning injury.  
  
"I didn't think so but you were the only other Immortal seen in the   
area," Joe shrugged.  
  
"Someone recognized me?" Methos asked, alarmed. "Watcher or Immortal?"  
  
"Watcher," Joe reassured his friend.  
  
"Who was it? One of yours?" Methos asked, his voice filled with   
distrust.  
  
"Dale Conners," Joe replied.  
  
"The spook? He actually made it out of the academy?" Methos asked in   
surprise.  
  
"He did and apparently he followed you around quite a bit," Joe smiled   
back. Amused that someone had finely gotten the better of the old man.   
"Losing your touch?"  
  
"Annoying little man," Methos shook his head. "Who is, or was rather,   
Andrew? No wait, let me guess. He was an old friend of MacLeod's or   
something and they shared a tender but significant moment centuries ago   
and now our little boyscout feels the need to avenge the man's   
senseless and horrible demise in order to settle his restless and   
angst-filled mind. Right?" Methos smiled, summing up most of the   
Highlander's recent adventures in a single phrase.  
  
"Actually," Joe grinned. "Neither of us has any idea who Andrew was."  
  
"Ah, I see." Methos nodded thoughtfully. "It must be about a women   
then. Anna, I would assume."  
  
"Now you've got it," Joe clapped Methos on the back.   
  
"Did you tell him about Kyle yet, Joe?" Duncan asked, taking a stool   
beside Joe.   
  
"Kyle?" Methos asked, momentarily confused.  
  
"Your, uh, cousin." Joe nodded, "he's in town, he was at the party   
too."  
  
"Really?" Methos asked Duncan, "you two met?"  
  
"If you could call it that," Duncan shrugged. "He doesn't seem to like   
me very much."  
  
"He's a good kid," Joe said. "Give him time."  
  
"Two or three hundred years should just about do it," Methos mumbled   
under his breath.  
  
"I'm not looking for a fight if he's not," Duncan nodded sincerely. "I   
should get back to the club, Anna will need some help finding the real   
killer."  
  
"Let me know if you need help sewing on your merit badge," Methos   
laughed.  
  
~~  
  
Duncan pulled up to Anna's club and parked his car, even the   
valets had left, he noticed. The club appeared deserted but Duncan   
picked up an Immortal presence inside.  
  
"Hello?" He called out, stepping inside and keeping a hand on the hilt   
of his katana just in case. "Anna? Its Duncan MacLeod, are you here?"  
  
Anna stepped out of the backroom and waved, "I'm back here, Duncan.   
Come look at this."  
  
Duncan relaxed and followed Anna into her office where several security   
monitors were set up along one wall. Anna gracefully slid into a chair   
facing the monitors and a keyboard.  
  
"What's all this?" Duncan asked, pulling a chair over for himself.  
  
"I took the liberty of setting up a few cameras around the property,"   
Anna smiled in satisfaction. "Just in case something like this ever   
happened."  
  
"Was the fight caught on tape?" Duncan asked out of curiosity, he'd   
never seen a Quickening caught on film before.  
  
"No," Anna frowned. "But both Andrew and another Immortal walked past   
the camera within five minutes of each other, its logical to assume   
that the other guy was the killer."  
  
"Can you play it?" Duncan asked, wanting to see it with his own eyes   
before reserving judgment.  
  
"Yeah, watch the center monitor. I'll play it through and then go back   
and highlight the second man." Anna said, typing a series of commands   
on the keyboard. "I know I've seen the second guy before but I just   
can't place him."  
  
The screen flickered to life in a burst of digital snow. It was a   
grainly black and white image but was still fairly clear, Duncan   
decided. A man with long dark hair and wearing a short light colored   
jacket walked slowly through the camera. Aimlessly, Duncan noted. Like   
he wasn't completely sure where he was going. A few minutes later   
another man entered the camera's eye. He had short, dark hair and wore   
a long dark trenchcoat. He also kept looking over his shoulder for   
something as he walked, providing the camera with several excellent   
profile shots. Duncan leaned towards the monitor and squinted, trying   
to bring the image into focus.  
  
"Its- Its too blurry to make out," Duncan shook his head.  
  
"I can fix that, I think." Anna typed and played with some dials next   
to the keyboard. "I hate computers," She muttered.  
  
The image of the second man shifted and grew as Anna blew it up on the   
screen until it was filled by the man's blurry face.  
  
"It'll take a moment for the computer to clear the image up," Anna   
said. "I just want to thank you again for your help, Duncan. You really   
don't need to do this."  
  
"Yes I do," Duncan corrected her. "I gave you my word to always help   
you whenever you needed it."  
  
"That was two hundred years ago, I can't believe you still remember."   
Anna laughed.  
  
  
~~~~  
England, 1786  
~~~~  
  
Duncan MacLeod strolled along downtown Manchester, enjoying both the   
sunny day and the scenery. He was passing over the Queen's Bridge when   
he felt the intruding buzz of another Immortal nearby. Dropping down   
along side the bridge, Duncan pulled his sword, holding it at the   
ready.  
  
"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he spoke with a fearless   
voice. "I'm not looking for a fight."  
  
"Who ever does?" A voice replied from further under the bridge. "Life   
can throw such curves sometimes, don't you think?"  
  
"We can still walk away from this, friend." Duncan said, moving under   
the cover of the bridge, away from prying eyes.  
  
"And one of us will," the man said, stepping out of the darkness. "What   
would you like on your gravestone, Mr. MacLeod?"  
  
He was a tall man with short fiery red hair and a small smooth face, he   
looked to be in his early thirties. But that was by mortal standards of   
course, Duncan realized. For all he knew, this tall man may just as   
easily be a thousand years old.  
  
"Who am I fighting?" Duncan asked, moving into combat range but not   
attacking.  
  
"Cyrus DeSortie," he replied with an exagerated but cautious bow.   
  
"Last chance to walk away," Duncan warned, knowing Cyrus wouldn't back   
down.  
  
"Indeed," Cyrus smiled.  
  
Spinning quickly, Cyrus closed the remaining feet between them and   
began a furious assault on the Highlander. Duncan recovered quickly and   
blocked almost all of the blows, he realized quickly that Cyrus was the   
superior fighter. Several light gashes covered his body, staining his   
silk clothing with blood.   
  
Before the fight had begun, it was over, with Duncan kneeling at Cyrus'   
feet, his rapier laying several feet away.  
  
"Last chance to walk away," Cyrus laughed, mocking MacLeod in his   
weakness.  
  
"Funny," a feminine voice called out from the edge of the bridge. "I   
was about to say the same thing."  
  
The voice caught Cyrus and Duncan both by surprise, having been so tied   
up in their struggle, neither had felt the Immortal woman come within   
range.  
  
"You can't interfere," Cyrus yelled angrily. "Just wait a few minutes   
and I'll be right with you, m'lady."  
  
"I could do that," the woman replied sweetly. "Hasn't anyone ever told   
you how rude it is to keep a lady waiting?" From within the folds of   
her clothing she produced a small musket and aimed it at Cyrus.  
  
"Someone once told me it was rude to keep a lady-in-waiting," Cyrus   
laughed uneasily, taking a step backwards.  
  
Anna shook her head and smiled and Cyrus seemed to relax somewhat until   
she brought her arm back up and took aim.  
  
"Damn," he mumbled.  
  
The discharge from the gun was deafening, Cyrus flew backwards, landing   
on his back, dead. Duncan looked at Anna for a moment before sighing   
and dropping onto his side, dying within moments.  
  
~~  
  
"Good morning, my dear."   
  
Duncan sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings at a glance. He lay   
on a soft bed in a room somewhere, Anna sat on a chair against the far   
wall, next to the door. His rapier leaned against the bedframe. Rolling   
off the bed, Duncan scooped it up and dropped into a defensive posture.  
  
"Calm down, calm down." Anna laughed, standing up and holding her empty   
hands out for Duncan to see. "I'm not going to kill you and I'd   
appreciate it if you did the same."  
  
"Who are you? Why did you interfere?" Duncan asked, shaking his head to   
clear the post-death fog from his mind.  
  
"I'm Anna Petrovik," she smiled, dropping her hands back to her sides.   
"You were losing, I was in a good mood. Would you rather I hadn't?"  
  
"I didn't say that," Duncan allowed a small smile to surface. Lowering   
his sword but not putting it away he sat back down on the bed.   
  
"Good," Anna laughed, joining MacLeod on the bed. "If you like, you   
could just let me kill you. If it really bothered you, that is."  
  
"I'm Duncan MacLeod," he smiled back, taking her hand and kissing it   
lightly. "And no, I like my head right where it is, thanks."  
  
"So do I," Anna smiled seductively.  
  
"I owe you my life," Duncan said sincerely.   
  
"No, you don't." Anna shook her head firmly.  
  
"You saved my life, I owe you something of equal value."  
  
"Well, when you put it like that." Anna smiled, leaning towards Duncan   
with her eyes closed daintily to kiss the Highlander.  
  
  
~~~  
Present  
~~~  
  
"You saved my life," Duncan replied, putting his hand on her shoulder   
softly. "I owe you the same."  
  
"We've gone over this already," Anna smiled. "You've paid me back many   
times now."  
  
The computer chimed before Duncan could respond, both Immortals turned   
to look at the surprisingly clear image on the monitor. The   
surprisingly framilier face.  
  
Anna glared hard at the frozen image, "that's the bastard that stomped   
on my dream. He looks so framilier though, do you recognize him?"  
  
"I, um," Duncan paused, unsure what to say. He knew who it was, he'd   
almost expected to see the youthful and innocent expression of Methos.   
  
"You know who it is, don't you?" Anna asked, turning to stare at the   
Highlander.  
  
"No, I thought I did." Duncan lied, "its not who I thought it was   
though."  
  
"Oh," Anna replied without much conviction. "I'm going to make some   
copies of his face and show them to everyone who was here, somebody   
will recognize him."  
  
"No," Duncan almost yelled. Quickly trading his shocked expression for   
a silly smile. "No, wait a few days on that for me. I'll ask around and   
see what I can find out, okay?"  
  
"Okay, I guess so." Anna said suspiciously, "why do I get the feeling   
that your protecting someone?"  
  
"I'm not," Duncan reassured her. "In case we're wrong about this guy   
and he didn't do it, he may not even be Immortal. If you pass that   
picture around, everyone that knew Andrew will be after his head."   
Duncan said truthfully.  
  
"You're right," Anna agreed. "But I'm only going to wait a few days, I   
can't risk letting him get away. It could take centuries to find him   
again."  
  
"Just promise that you'll keep this quiet while I do some digging. I've   
got to get going now, could you print me a copy of his picture?" Duncan   
said, standing up and backing towards the door.  
  
"Three days," Anna said firmly, handing Duncan the printout. "That's   
how long you've got before I start looking for him myself." She paused   
a moment, staring at the monitor, "he looks so framilier but I just   
can't place him, yet."  
  
~~  
  
"Did you do it?" Duncan spun Methos around on the stool to face him.   
"Did you take Andrew's head?"  
  
"Oh for the love of- No. No I most certainly did not." Methos replied   
in annoyance. "We've already done over all this, MacLeod. Yes, I was at   
the party. No, I didn't fight anyone. So maybe I have a little Watcher   
left in me, sue me. Do you even know who Andrew was yet? Do you have   
any notion of what he was like? What he used to do for fun?"  
  
"No," Duncan admitted. "He was a killer of some sort?"  
  
"Maybe," Methos shrugged. "I really have no idea, don't think I've ever   
laid eyes on the man before." With a self-satisfied smile, Methos   
rotated back to the bar and took a large drink of his beer, enjoying   
the momentary silence as MacLeod glared hard at the back of his head.  
  
"When was the last time you had a photo taken of yourself?" Duncan   
asked, taking great pain to sound casual.  
  
"About a hundred years before there were cameras," Methos replied over   
his shoulder.  
  
"How about earlier tonight?"  
  
"What are you talking about MacLeod? Methos asked, turning to face the   
annoying Scotsman. "Spit it out, subtilty really isn't your style."  
  
Duncan smiled slightly, dropping the printout of Methos' face onto the   
old man's lap. "Anna got a shot of you on a security camera tonight.   
I've, no, we've got three days to find out who killed Andrew or Anna is   
going to start handing out 8x10 glossies of this picture to anyone and   
everyone that did know Andrew."  
  
"She didn't even get my good side," Methos snorted. "Very devious of   
you Mac, but I wonder, how is Anna going to take the news that you're   
covering for me."  
  
"Oh no, you're not shifting the blame to me this time, old man." Duncan   
shook his head firmly.  
  
"I won't have to as long as you figure out who really killed that   
Andrew chap. By the way," Methos continued casually. "I hear Anna has   
something of a violent temper. You know her better than I, is there any   
truth to that?"  
  
Duncan stared blankly at Methos for a moment before muttering under his   
breath and storming out of Joe's bar.  
  
"Nice picture," Joe said, stepping out of the office to stand beside   
Methos. "How do you always manage to do that?"  
  
"I always look my best," Methos shrugged. "You never know when someone   
will pop up with a camera."  
  
"No, I mean how do you always make Mac feel like the bad guy," Joe   
laughed.  
  
"Talent," Methos shrugged and grinned. "Pure talent."  
  
~~  
  
"Thanks anyway, Cody," Duncan spoke into the phone. "Yes, yes I'll say   
hello to Amanda the next time I see her. No I don't know if she still   
does *that*. Hasn't she done *that* to me? Well- I, um. Yeah, real   
funny. I'll talk to you later, we'll do lunch sometime."   
  
Duncan dropped onto the couch and slammed the phone down in   
frustration. He's been on the phone all night and most of the morning   
with everyone he knew from the party but so far no one had seen or   
heard anything.  
  
"Why do I even care?" He asked the empty loft. Had Methos been   
listening he was sure the oldest Immortal would have some choice words   
regarding Duncan's over developed sense of morality. Maybe he's right.   
"I'm just tired," he told himself, rubbing his eyes with his hands.  
  
Duncan dialed Joe in the hope that he may have more information to   
share. As much as he hated using their friendship like this, he was   
fast running out of time and options.  
  
"Dawson here," Joe answered cheerfully but sounded slightly stressed   
and busy.  
  
"Joe, its Duncan. Did I call you at a bad time?"  
  
"Hey Mac, naw, I'm just up to my eyeballs in paperwork."  
  
"Busy night huh?" Duncan asked.  
  
"I've got a ten page report on my desk for just about every Quickening   
that was taken last night," Joe replied. "There were eight within an   
hour of Andrew's death alone."  
  
"Have you heard anything else about that?" Duncan asked, deciding on a   
straightforward approach.  
  
"Yeah, one of my guys was on Andrew all night," Joe replied.   
  
Duncan heard the Watcher digging through a pile of reports.  
  
"I only heard this morning or I would have called you. A guy named, let   
me see here, Garthington took Andrew's head."  
  
"Joe, you're a life-saver," Duncan smiled for the first time than day   
and breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Don't mention it, I saved Methos, please, don't mention it." Joe   
laughed heartily. "Buy me a beer the next time you're in and we'll call   
it even."  
  
"I'll be by in a while, thanks Joe."  
  
Duncan tried calling Anna but got her answering machine. "Anna? Its   
Duncan MacLeod calling, I know who did it. I'm heading over to Joe's so   
meet me at the club later and I'll tell you all about it. Its, uh,   
quarter to two in the afternoon."  
  
~~~  
  
"Hey Joe!" Duncan called out to the empty bar as he slipped through the   
front doors.  
  
"Back here, Mac." Joe called back from behind the office door. "Grab   
yourself a drink and come on back."  
  
Duncan paused to take a bottle of water from the mini fridge, slipping   
a twenty into the till just on principle before moving to learn against   
the office doorjam. Joe looked up from behind an intimidating stack of   
paperwork to smile at his friend.  
  
"You look like crap," Joe laughed. "But alot happier than you were last   
night."  
  
Duncan smiled and nodded, wishing he'd stopped to have a shower before   
leaving home. "I feel great, looks like you've got a long day ahead of   
you. Want a hand?" He finished, motioning to the stack of reports that   
dominated Joe's desk.  
  
"Yeah, the fun never stops," Joe grinned. "I'll get through it all, its   
mostly reading and signing on the dotted line. I'm just glad its Sunday   
so I won't have to worry about opening the bar tonight."  
  
"Why's that? You're usually open everyday." Duncan asked, eyebrows   
furrowing. "Not that you don't deserve the day off."  
  
"Aw, some damn Politician decided that there were more people drinking   
on Sundays rather than going to church," Joe grumbled unhappily.  
  
"Well, if you get bored I'm sure Methos would love it if you showed up   
at his door and started serving drinks," Duncan laughed, half-serious.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure he'll still show up today, banging on my door and   
demanding service." Joe laughed back, enjoying the momentary   
distraction from work.   
  
"I wouldn't be surprised at all," Duncan nodded. "Anyway, I'm heading   
over to see Anna now, you're welcome to come along if you can tear   
yourself away from work. She'll be happy to see you again, I'm sure."  
  
"Well," Joe said, biting his lower lip and looking at the papers on his   
desk. "I guess none of this is really important, yeah I'll come with   
you. Just let me sign off on this last one and we'll get going."  
  
Duncan nodded before moving back into the main bar to throw his empty   
water bottle in the recycle bin. Suddenly, he felt the buzz of another   
Immortal. As always, Duncan was momentarily disoriented. "I think   
Methos is here, Joe."  
  
The front doors opened and, as expected, Methos walked in. A moment   
later Kyle entered behind him. Methos' easy saunter seemed almost   
energetic compared to Kyle's lazy shuffle.  
  
"MacLeod," Methos nodded, letting a small smile grace his face. "You   
remember Kyle?"  
  
"Of course," Duncan replied with a forced smile. "Nice to see you   
again. I see you finally got a hold of Adam."  
  
"Yeah," Kyle said with a neutral expression and calm tone. "Nice to see   
you too."  
  
Methos turned to glance at Kyle for a moment.  
  
"Sorry about the other night," Kyle continued, glaring at Methos while   
he spoke. "Happy now?" he asked Methos.  
  
"Whatever," Methos grunted, his smile deepening.   
  
"So you knew Richie?" Duncan asked casually as he and Kyle stood   
frozen, watching each other carefully.  
  
"Yep," Kyle shrugged, not breaking eye contact.  
  
"And here I was all concerned that you two weren't going to get along."   
He said sarcastically after a moment of watching the two Immortals try   
to stare each other down.  
  
"He Mac," Joe called from the office. "Who is it?"  
  
"Its Adam," Duncan called back over his shoulder. "And Kyle," he   
continued after a pause.  
  
Joe came out of the office to smile at Kyle, "hey kid. I heard you were   
back in town. Missed you at the party though."  
  
"Yeah, well," Kyle smiled warmly, pulling the Watcher into a friendly   
embrace. "It wasn't really my kind of party, too many, uh, dirty souls   
around for my liking. Food was good though." He finished with a   
backward glance at MacLeod.  
  
"Well, you're here now," Joe shrugged. "Let me get you a drink while   
you tell me what's new."  
  
"David said he's been sending you pretty regular reports on me," Kyle   
smiled, taking a seat at the bar.  
  
"He's a great Watcher, isn't he?" Joe laughed lightly. "I see he takes   
the oath seriously."  
  
"About the same as another Watcher I used to know," Kyle joined Joe in   
laughing.  
  
"Yeah well, I like to help the good guys." Joe shrugged. "David only   
tells me about your dealings with other Immortals, nice job with Cyrus   
by the way. Every good Immortal around breathed a sign of relief when   
you took that bastard's head."  
  
"Wait a minute," Duncan broke in, moving to Kyle's side. "You were the   
one that killed Cyrus?"  
  
"You knew him?" Kyle asked, neither caring nor really wanting to know.   
He had been manipulated into making the promise not to start anything   
with the Highlander shortly after meeting up with Methos this morning.  
  
"Long time ago," Duncan nodded. "I heard he was dead but I didn't know   
who did it."  
  
"Learned from the best," Kyle shrugged.  
  
"Thailus was his first teacher," Methos supplied, quite out of   
character for the old man.   
  
'He almost sounds proud,' MacLeod noticed.  
  
"Conner met him once," Duncan nodded. "Told me a little about him."  
  
"Nice guy, I figured he was a relative of yours." Kyle nodded.  
  
"You met him?" Duncan asked, surprised. "He didn't mention you the last   
time I talked to him."  
  
"Why would he?" Methos said, lying straightfaced, "he's never mentioned   
me to you."  
  
"You met him too?" Duncan asked Methos in surprise. "Have you ever met   
him, Joe?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Joe laughed. "We're old drinking buddies."  
  
"So Joe, I hear our bitter old friend here is suspect numero uno on the   
party-killing Quickening last night." Kyle said.  
  
"Not anymore," Joe shook his head. "I got an ID on the other guy this   
morning."  
  
"I told you it wasn't me," Methos poked Duncan in the shoulder.  
  
"Sorry about that," Duncan apologized.  
  
"Who did it?" Kyle asked, accepting the beer Joe held out to him.  
  
"Some guy named Garthington," Joe replied. "I haven't had a chance to   
pull his file yet so that's all we know."  
  
Kyle's eyes clouded and he stood suddenly, moving a few feet away to   
lean heavily on a support beam in the center of the bar. "Let me save   
you a little time and effort then. He's not what you could call a nice   
guy, wants to create a fellowship of like-minded Immortals. He moves   
into an area and recruits every Immortal he deems to be worthy. He   
thinks he can create and sustain an army with fear."  
  
"Its been done," Methos quipped. "Tacky, tacky, tacky."  
  
"Basically," Kyle continued, stifling a laugh at Methos' comment. "He   
wants to control every Immortal alive, to be king."  
  
"How do you know all that?" Duncan asked, "met him before?"  
  
"No, I subscribe to the Immortal newsletter," Kyle laughed mirthlessly.   
"I met him three years ago when I was in Chicago. He tried to recruit   
me and three of my friends. I ran, they didn't."  
  
"What happens if someone chooses not to join with him?" Duncan asked,   
unsure if he even wanted to risk getting slammed by Kyle's wit again.   
One Methos was quite enough for him.  
  
Kyle gave MacLeod a look that suggested he'd just asked the stupidest   
question in history. "Then they die," he replied simply.  
  
"He's that good?" Joe asked, mentally taking notes.  
  
"I'm far from the best," Kyle shrugged. "But I barely made it away,   
sans a lung."  
  
"Hmm," Methos mused. "Sounds rough for whoever has to deal with it,   
fortunately its not me. What do I have to do to get a beer around here,   
Joe?"  
  
"You can get off your lazy-" Joe paused when Kyle suddenly twisted   
towards the door, followed by MacLeod and Methos to stare with narrowed   
eyes.  
  
"I think I'm double parked," Methos said quickly. "Thanks for almost   
giving me that beer, Joe."  
  
Methos was only feet from the rear exit when Anna stepped through the   
front door.  
  
"Oh, bloody hell. " Methos groaned quietly.  
  
"I got your message Duncan but I couldn't wait-" Anna broke off when   
she saw Methos. "Its you, I knew I recognized you from somewhere, you   
bastard. You lied to me MacLeod, you son of a bitch."  
  
"No, Anna don't!" Duncan said, moving between Methos and the angry   
woman.  
  
"I've heard enough lies from you, MacLeod. His head is mine." Anna   
yelled, producing a sword from her tight leather jacket and charging   
Methos.  
  
"No, wait!" Duncan started, raising his empty hands to Anna.   
  
"Shut-up MacLeod," Kyle said calmly. Jumping to his feet, he shoved the   
Highlander aside and drew a rectangular metal object from his coat.   
With a flick of his wrist a blade extended from one end of the object   
and locked in place with a snap. The bar echoed with the harsh sound of   
steel on steel as Kyle brought his blade up to block Anna's fierce   
blow.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Anna asked through clenched teeth as she tried   
to gain leverage over Kyle.  
  
"Kyle Pierson, stop now and I won't take your head." He replied,   
holding against Anna's strength.  
  
"I've heard that line more times than I can count. Try something   
original in your next life," Anna laughed. Shifting her weight and   
turning, she twirled on one foot, bringing her sword around for a   
killing blow that rarely failed to bring a quick end to any fight.  
  
Kyle reacted quickly, bringing his sword down to block and disarm Anna   
before slashing his blade across Anna's slim stomach.  
  
"You want originality? How about this; Your party sucked." Kyle said as   
Anna dropped to her knees in front of him weakly, clutching her stomach   
in pain, her sword lay forgotten at her side.  
  
Kyle brought his blade down to decapitate the dying woman but was   
halted midswing by Duncan's katana. Recovering quickly, Kyle   
sidestepped and dropped into a combat stance while Duncan did the same.  
  
"Don't give me an excuse, Highlander." Kyle warned menacingly.  
  
"I can't let you do this," Duncan replied, quickly changing his stance.  
  
"Ah, the infamous Highland morality I've heard so much about," Kyle   
laughed as he and MacLeod circled each other. "Always protecting   
someone, aren't you?"  
  
"A trait we seem to share," Duncan grunted as he blocked a teasing jab   
from Kyle.  
  
"No, I'm an innocent man protecting an innocent friend." Kyle said,   
twisting to counter a slash from MacLeod. "And you, a man who murdered   
a defenseless man, someone who called you friend. We have nothing in   
common, you and I."  
  
"I live with my actions everyday," Duncan replied angrily at the   
accusation.  
  
"You won't have to for much longer," Kyle said firmly as he unleashed a   
powerful barrage of thrusts that forced MacLeod on the defensive.  
  
"We'll see," Duncan smiled playfully. Spinning away from Kyle's blade,   
he threw out his leg in an attempt to take Kyle's legs out from under   
him but Kyle jumped forward and somersaulted over Duncan's kick. Both   
men came to their feet with swords ready, neither giving the other any   
leeway.  
  
"Damn kids," Methos grumbled from the corner. Reaching into his coat he   
removed a semi-automatic handgun fitted with a silencer.  
  
Two muffled shots rang out, loud in the confines of the bar despite the   
silencer. MacLeod and Kyle fell to the floor limply, both bleeding from   
the fatal gunshot wounds in their chests.  
  
"We've got some time to kill," Methos said lightly as he collected the   
three swords from the floor. "Can I get that beer now?"  
  
~~~  
  
Kyle awoke with an involuntary jerk, hitting his head on the   
table he lay under. Holding his head, he rolled to his feet quickly,   
fighting a wave of nausea and smacking his dry lips.  
  
"Good morning sleepyhead," Joe laughed from his seat in the next booth.  
  
"He shot me," Kyle said dumbly, running his fingers through his long,   
dark hair.  
  
"You and me both," Duncan said, holding a beer out to Kyle.  
  
"God, I hate getting shot," Kyle said quietly. "I'm getting an idea   
though, you interested, MacLeod?"  
  
"Maybe," Duncan shrugged, wary of the devious twinkle in Kyle's eyes.   
"What did you have in mind?"  
  
"The next time Adam falls asleep," Kyle began slowly, letting the   
thought form in all its glory. "We remove all his body hair. With   
tweezers."  
  
Anna snickered from behind her hands as she sat beside Joe, a steaming   
mug of coffee on the table before her.  
  
"Where'd Adam go anyway?" Kyle asked, using Methos' assumed name in   
front of the lady.  
  
"To get a change of clothes for you three," Joe said. "And to get out   
of cleaning up the mess you left."  
  
"Sorry about that Joe," Duncan apologized. "That should never have   
happened." He finished, looking directly at Kyle with a small smile.  
  
"Maybe it had to happen," Kyle shrugged. "I'm sorry too, Joe. Everytime   
I come back here I end up getting in a fight." Kyle paused, raising his   
beer. "Here's hoping it doesn't become a habit. I don't have that many   
shirts."  
  
"So did my party really, how did you put it, suck?" Anna asked softly,   
looking at Kyle with misty eyes.  
  
"Naw," Kyle smiled and waved her off. "It was pretty good, I didn't   
like your choice of music but the food was great."  
  
"Did you like the party?" Anna turned to Duncan.  
  
"Absolutely, great food." MacLeod nodded emphatically.  
  
"How long was I out for?" Kyle asked, checking his watch.  
  
"About twenty minutes or so I guess," Joe shrugged.  
  
"Hmm," Kyle smiled. "New personal best."  
  
"So it was just the food," Anna laughed quietly, taking a sip of her   
coffee.  
  
"I love those baby corn things," Kyle shrugged.  
  
Joe laughed and shook his head in wonderment, leaning forward against   
the table.  
  
"I really do love those baby corn things," Kyle repeated, looking at   
Joe.  
  
"That's not what I'm laughing about," Joe shook his head. "An hour ago   
you three were trying to kill each other and now you're all talking   
like it never happened."  
  
"There's a bullethole in my shirt, Joe." Kyle grinned, "trust me, it   
happened."  
  
"Sometimes," Duncan began, choosing his words carefully. "Sometimes its   
good to let off a little steam, we weren't really trying to kill each   
other."  
  
Kyle let out a snort and looked away.  
  
"Were we?" Duncan asked, the grin falling from his face.  
  
"Well, Anna looked pretty serious," Kyle shrugged.  
  
"That's because I thought that Adam was the killer," Anna replied in   
defense of herself. "I was a little mad."  
  
"Makes sense to me," Joe agreed. "I still don't understand but I guess   
it makes sense."  
  
"Oh come on now, Joe. Haven't you ever gotten into an argument with a   
friend and felt just a little better after knocking some sense into   
him?" Kyle asked frankly.  
  
"Or at least trying to," Duncan joked.  
  
"I would have won," Kyle assured the group.  
  
"Maybe," Duncan replied honestly.  
  
"I suppose," Joe agreed reluctantly. "But I always had the good sense   
to do it outside."  
  
"Touché," Kyle laughed. "But Adam was the one with the gun, not us."  
  
"I'm going to start cleaning up now," Duncan said, moving to the   
backroom for a mop.  
  
"Have fun," Kyle laughed. "I'll keep an eye on your beer for you."  
  
"By the way," Joe asked Kyle. "Do you really see Adam as an innocent?"  
  
"He *looks* innocent," Kyle grinned. "When I said it, it just seemed   
like the right thing to say at the time."  
  
"Like saying that my party sucked?" Anna asked, lifting her head to   
gaze at Kyle.  
  
"Something like that, yeah." Kyle shrugged.  
  
"Friends?" Duncan asked, extending his hand to Kyle while holding a mop   
in the other.  
  
"No," Kyle replied, grasping and shaking Duncan's hand. "But I promise   
not to wish you dead anymore."  
  
"That's a start," Duncan said with an uneasy grin before moving off to   
wash the drying blood off the floor.  
  
"Does that include not wishing me dead too?" Anna asked.  
  
"Absolutely," Kyle nodded with a serious expression. "As long as you   
don't go after my friends."  
  
"I can deal with that," Anna nodded. "Can I assume that Garthington   
isn't your friend?"  
  
"He's not," Kyle shook his head. "But I'm sorry, you can't have his   
head just the same."  
  
"Excuse me?" Anna sputtered, "I hate bringing up age but I think I'm   
alot older and alot wiser than you are and yet you think you can tell   
me who I can and cannot kill?"  
  
"Anna," Duncan said in a calming voice, moving back to Anna's side.   
"Kyle has just as many reasons to want Garthington as you do, maybe   
more."  
  
"He destroyed my dream, any chance my club had of succeeding went down   
the tubes when that bastard killed Andrew." Anna said angrily, pulling   
out of Duncan's embrace and standing abruptly. "What could Kyle have   
that could possibly beat that?" Finished, she turned on her heel and   
stormed out of the bar, collecting her sword off the table as she   
passed.  
  
"She was my wife," Kyle said quietly.  
  
"Who was?" Joe asked, confused. Kyle's Watcher had never even hinted at   
Kyle being married.  
  
"One of the people that Garthington killed," Kyle said. "She was my   
wife."  
  
"David didn't mention you ever being married," Joe said.  
  
"Really? He was my best man," Kyle laughed lightly. "Garthington killed   
her, slowly."  
  
"I know how you feel," Duncan said tenderly. "I've lost more people I   
loved that I can count."  
  
"We all have," Joe added, having had his fair share of love interests.  
  
"Then you don't know how I feel," Kyle shook his head. "Because I've   
only loved one person, ever." As he finished, Kyle turned to the door,   
watching silently.  
  
"What-" Duncan broke off as he too felt the buzz of an approaching   
Immortal. Moving quickly to the bar, he picked up his own weapon and   
tossed Kyle's over to the younger Immortal.  
  
"I come in peace," Methos deadpanned upon sticking his head through the   
front doors and seeing Kyle and MacLeod facing him with swords ready.  
  
"You shot me," Duncan and Kyle replied in unison.  
  
"For lack of a bucket of cold water, yeah." Methos said sarcastically,   
moving just inside the door but no further. "Are you two going to put   
those away or do I need to do it again?"  
  
"You ruined my shirt," Kyle joked. "That's two you owe me now, Pops."  
  
"Put it on my bill," Methos said dryly, tossing Duncan and Kyle two of   
his old sweatshirts to wear.  
  
Duncan immediately peeled off the blood-stained shirt he wore and   
dropped it into the garbage. Then stood barechested, rubbing the dried   
blood off his flawless skin with a bar rag while Kyle slipped into the   
backroom to change.  
  
"How're they getting along?" Methos whispered to Joe.  
  
"I think they agreed not to kill each other," Joe scratched his salt   
and pepper beard. "You care?"  
  
"I've only got so many bullets left, Joe." Methos replied casually.  
  
"That's what I thought," Joe laughed. Even if the old man wouldn't   
admit it, Joe knew Methos cared for both Kyle and MacLeod.  
  
"So MacLeod, can I assume that Anna no longer wants my head on her   
mantle?" Methos asked, finishing Kyle's beer in a gulp.  
  
"Yeah-" Duncan began but was cut short by Kyle's voice from the   
backroom.  
  
"Except for the ascetic value of having your smiling head mounted over   
a fireplace."  
  
"I'm touched," Methos replied.  
  
"I kind of like that idea," Joe laughed. "Just think about it for a   
second, it'd be great. We'd even take you down and dust you every now   
and then."  
  
"Ha ha," Methos laughed unconvincingly.  
  
"You don't have to worry about Anna," Duncan changed the subject   
smoothly.  
  
"Glad to hear it," Methos nodded, finishing MacLeod's beer. "Mind if I   
grab my own beer, Joe?"  
  
"Sure, if anyone wants anything, feel free." Joe gestured to the bar.  
  
Duncan helped himself to some good scotch while Methos poured a mug of   
beer for himself and Joe. The old man looked over to Kyle as he came   
out of the backroom, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.  
  
"Nothing for me thanks," Kyle shook his head. "I've got some stuff to   
do."  
  
"Okay," Joe said as he took a stool at the bar. "Just don't skip town   
without saying good-bye again."  
  
"Not a problem," Kyle nodded. "See you all later," then he turned and   
quickly disappeared through the doors.  
  
"Joe," Duncan asked once Kyle had left, quickly turning the subject to   
something far more serious. "Do you know where Garthington might be?"  
  
"Um," Joe paused, forcing himself to forget his non-interference oath.   
"I was talking to his Watcher while you and Kyle were, uh, dead."  
  
"You never really get used to saying that, can you?" Methos laughed.  
  
"And?" Duncan prompted his friend.  
  
"Garthington is squatting in some warehouse by the docks." Joe   
confided, "according to his Watcher, he comes and goes quite a bit but   
he's definitely living there for the time being."  
  
Duncan nodded and turned to Methos, "you coming?"  
  
Methos twisted in his seat to look at MacLeod with an unamused   
expression, "bring me back some fish. Fresh, preferably."  
  
"Didn't think so," Duncan shook his head and left the bar.  
  
"I should probably follow him," Joe said, standing up.  
  
"And risk actually being his Watcher?" Methos returned with a comical   
stunned expression.  
  
"Oh shut up," Joe laughed. "You coming along?"  
  
"Why bother? MacLeod's bringing me back some fish and I - Oh, bloody   
conniving kid." Methos swore as he patted down his coat, searching for   
something.  
  
"What?" Joe asked.  
  
"That thieving little prat," Methos yelled, jumping to his feet.  
  
"Who? Kyle? Mac? Me?" Joe asked in confusion. "We're *all* kids to you   
for crying out loud."  
  
"Kyle, he took my - Bloody little snot." Methos swore again. "I bet   
he's gone after Garthington."  
  
"What'd he take?" Joe asked loudly, grabbing the old man by the   
shoulders to get his attention.  
  
"My gun," Methos broke out of Joe's grasp. "Come on, let's go."  
  
"Where?" Joe asked in confusion. "How would Kyle know where Garthington   
is anyway? MacLeod'll find him long before Kyle does."  
  
"Don't know," Methos replied over his shoulder, heading for the door.   
"How well does he get on with his Watcher? Oh, that's right, he was   
best man at Kyle's wedding."  
  
"What if Mac finds Garthington first? Would Kyle kill MacLeod to get   
Garthington?" Joe asked, grabbing his jacket from behind the bar.   
  
"I stopped asking 'what if' questions a long time ago, Joe."  
  
~~  
  
Duncan MacLeod pulled his car into warehouse #71's parking lot,   
the buzz of another Immortal still ringing through his head. Even   
without the ability to sense other Immortals Duncan would've been able   
to find his target due to the violent beginning of the Quickening he'd   
seen and felt as he'd driven through the maze of buildings on the   
docks.   
  
He entered the building quietly, shielding his eyes from the bright   
arcs of lightning that emanated from a fallen body in the center of a   
large open are near the far wall. Next to the body, Duncan could almost   
make out form of a large man enveloped by chaotic ribbons of Quickening   
energy. Though his honor prevented him from attacking someone at an   
obvious disadvantage, Duncan carefully edged closer to the Immortal,   
waiting for whoever's Quickening it was to die out.  
  
It was definitely a big one, Duncan noted. Whoever it had been was   
either old or powerful. The body looked strangely familiar though, it   
wore a tight leather jacket and red pants.  
  
"Mother of god," Duncan mouthed the words as he realized who it had   
been. Anna.  
  
Moving as close as he could without getting stung by the lancing jets   
of lightning, Duncan drew his katana and waited.  
  
A full minute passed before the Quickening died out, dropping the   
victorious Immortal into a heap on the scorched cement floor.  
  
"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he said after forcing   
himself to wait a moment to give the winner a chance to recover.   
  
"Been watching Braveheart much, MacLeod?" The man rasped, still reeling   
from the effects of the Quickening.  
  
"Pick up your sword and defend yourself," Duncan threatened.  
  
"You've saved me the trouble of looking for you, thanks MacLeod." The   
man said cheerfully, standing up slowly.  
  
"You're Garthington?" Duncan asked, edging closer.  
  
"Christ, not even my mother called me that. Call me Garth, please."  
  
"In a few minutes your name won't matter, now pick up your sword."  
  
"Ah, I've heard tales of your fabulous morals," Garth laughed. "I had   
hoped they were only an exaggeration though. Oh well, nobody is   
perfect, right? I've got a deal for you, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan   
MacLeod."  
  
"No deals," Duncan shook his head stiffly. "Pick. Up. Your. Sword."  
  
"Let me think about that for a moment," Garth said, tilting his head   
and nibbling on his lower lip. "Umm, no. Join me MacLeod. Together we   
could rule over everyone, mortals and Immortals alike."  
  
"Been watching Star Wars again, huh Garthington?" Kyle said in near   
perfect imitation of Garth's condescending voice, stepping out of the   
shadows with his sword laying over his right shoulder loosely.  
  
"Oh this is getting tiring now," Garth laugh dryly. "First her, then   
MacLeod now you."  
  
"Secret hideouts just aren't what they used to be anymore," Kyle   
shrugged. "Though if you want to get really technical about it, I rode   
in on her Quickening so you'd only feel one of us. MacLeod was last."  
  
"How very cunning of you, -" Garth said with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Kyle, Kyle Pierson. We met three years ago in Chicago, remember?"  
  
"Kyle, yes, of course I remember you." Garth paused and a dirty smile   
spread across his rough face, "how's your girlfriend doing these days?"  
  
"I'll send you to ask her," Kyle said coolly. So coolly in fact that   
Duncan felt the temperature drop for over fifteen feet away.  
  
"No," Duncan yelled. "He killed Anna, he's mine."  
  
"Gentlemen please," Garth laughed. "Its not a matter of which of you   
gets to challenge me, there's quite enough of me to go around."  
  
"Sounds fair to me," Kyle replied calmly. "I get his head, MacLeod can   
have the rest."  
  
With a practiced kick, Garth flipped his sword up into the air to land   
firmly in his hand.  
  
"Kyle," Duncan broke in as he stepped between the two Immortals.   
"Please, don't."  
  
"Look at it like this MacLeod, if I lose you can have him." Kyle   
shrugged and pulled a gun from the inside folds of his coat, a gun that   
looked suspiciously like Methos'.   
  
Duncan realized what Kyle intended and dove to the side. As a result of   
his quick reflexes, what would have been a fatal wound ended up as a   
deep impact on his left thigh.  
  
"You wouldn't have done *that* three years ago," Garth laughed   
fearlessly.  
  
"Yeah well," Kyle shrugged and threw the gun into the shadows. "Its   
amazing how much it changes you when a loved one gets murdered in cold   
blood."  
  
"That's so true," Garth agreed, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.   
"You seem alot more eager to die now."  
  
"We'll see, *Garthington*."  
  
Duncan managed to crawl out of the way as Kyle and Garth came together   
and locked blades. Neither spoke or uttered a sound as they traded   
blows over and over. Garth took a step backwards and to the side,   
deflecting a powerful thrust by Kyle and throwing him partially off   
balance. Turning away from Kyle, Garth brought his leg around to   
connect solidly with the back of Kyle's head, throwing the younger   
Immortal to the ground.  
  
With a satisfied laugh, Garth brought his blade down over Kyle's neck.   
The laugh turned to a grunt as Kyle narrowly deflected the blow at the   
last moment and kicked Garth's legs out from under him. Rolling back   
into his feet, Kyle swung downwards at the spot Garth's chest had   
occupied only a moment before. With his blade buried firmly in the   
cement floor, Kyle was unable to block Garth's vicious thrust to his   
stomach.   
  
Kyle let forth a cry that echoed through the quiet warehouse, upsetting   
a flock of birds and forcing them from their perches into flight.  
  
"Brings back some great memories, doesn't it?" Garth laughed, "you,   
stuck on my sword, once again."  
  
Kyle twisted on the blade to glare at Garth with fiery eyes. From his   
vantage point, Duncan instantly recognized the look in Kyle's eyes to   
be controlled anger and not pain as he had originally assumed.  
  
A low growl emanated from Kyle's throat as he put his palms on either   
side of Garth's blade and held firm. With a wicked smile he kicked   
Garth dead center in the chest, the impact knocking the breath from the   
elder Immortal and depositing him unceremoniously onto the ground and   
making Kyle sprawl backwards a few steps.  
  
Garth's sword was still embedded in Kyle's chest with his hands holding   
it firmly. With only a slight grimace to show the pain he must be   
feeling, Kyle began slowly extracting the blade from his blood soaked   
chest. Garth rose to his feet quickly when he saw what was happening   
and with a scream of rage he charged at Kyle.  
  
Kyle's face remained expressionless as Garth threw his weight into Kyle   
and used his greater strength to slowly force the blade back into   
Kyle's chest, twisting as it worked its way through his ribcage.  
  
"This is definitely more of a challenge than it was last time," Garth   
whispered, leaning forward until he was mere inches from Kyle's   
impassive face. "But you're still running into the same problems, it   
seems."  
  
"Naw," Kyle whispered, blood bubbling down the corner of his mouth.   
"I'm learning." Flicking his left wrist sharply, a small dagger slid   
from its housing inside Kyle's coat sleeve and into his hand.   
  
With a gleam in his eyes, Kyle thrust the dagger into Garth at the base   
of his neck, just above the collarbone, neatly severing the man's   
windpipe and making him stagger backward, clutching his throat in   
surprise and pain.  
  
With renewed determination, Kyle tore Garth's blade free from his chest   
and almost feinted from the pain and loss of blood. Garth ran   
staggering up a rickety set of wooden stairs to the second level   
catwalks before pausing to remove the dagger with a quick, violent   
motion.  
  
Duncan watched helplessly with growing respect as Kyle followed   
Garthington up the stairs as fast as he could.  
  
"Damnit," Duncan swore under his breath as he watched his own would   
heal, too slowly. "Bullet didn't pass through, must have hit the bone."   
It felt broken, at least.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, on the second floor, Kyle and Garthington continued their   
fight in earnest. Their pace had slowed considerably due to their   
respective injuries and Garth seemed to be weakening quicker than Kyle.   
He managed to keep his balance but possessed none of his earlier   
finesse or confidence.  
  
Kyle still help Garth's sword firmly in his left hand and used it as a   
club. His other arm, virtually useless, hung limply at his side.   
Calling up energy from somewhere, Garth spun on his and kicked at   
Kyle's chest. The heel of his boot slamming heavily into the jagged   
hole in Kyle's chest, causing the young man to fall backward, grabbing   
his chest in pain. Garth's sword fell from Kyle's limp hand to balance   
precariously on the edge of the catwalk.  
  
With a gurgle of satisfaction, Garth scooped the weapon up and raised   
it high above his head, holding it up with both hands as though it were   
a prize. Before he could bring it down to decapitate his foe, Kyle   
jumped to his feet and body tackled Garth, pushing him several feet   
backwards until Garth regained his footing and brought them to a halt.  
  
Muttering something unintelligible, Garth brought the hilt of the sword   
down on Kyle's back, forcing the smaller man onto one knee. Uttering   
another grunt, Garth swung a boot at Kyle's jaw but was stopped once   
again by Kyle's quick reflexes. Catching the kick with one hand, Kyle   
thrust his first into Garth's groin with all his remaining strength.  
  
His chest throbbed in pain but Kyle could feel it slowly repairing   
itself, he wanted nothing more than to just lie and down and let   
himself die so he wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore. No, there was   
something he wanted more. Garthington's head on his mantle. The absurd   
image of Garth's head mounted over his fireplace entered his mind   
suddenly, causing him to laugh.   
  
"You wanna live forever?" Still laughing, Kyle forced himself to his   
feet.  
  
Garthington, doubled over in pain didn't see Kyle get up but he had   
heard the lad laugh and he hadn't liked the sound of it one bit. He   
looked up in time to see Kyle's palm rushing towards his head, the   
impact snapping his head backwards and knocking him greatly off   
balance.  
  
Kyle rushed forward and unleashed a flurry of hard chops and palm   
strikes, pushing Garthington backwards along the catwalk towards the   
large, dirty window that overlooked the Seacouver Bay.  
  
Using his second wind, Garth shoved Kyle roughly back with one arm and   
drew back his sword with the other.  
  
Kyle leaped forward, avoiding Garth's outstretched arm to catch his   
sword arm in both hands, bracing his feet he pushed against Garth's   
larger frame, pushing bother of the men through the window.  
  
Duncan limped to a window in time to see Garth and Kyle hit the dark   
water of the Bar. After a moment of silence, two forms broke to the   
surface of the water, thrashing around as they continued their   
desperate battle. The fighters were churning up the water so violently   
that the Highlander couldn't tell who was who. Garth's sword suddenly   
rose from the water and swung in a deadly arc, decapitating one of the   
men.  
  
The headless corpse sank quickly, dragging the other down with it   
leaving only a trail of bubbles. Duncan watched silently as the water   
took on a white glow and began bubbling violently. Flashed of lightning   
shot from the water, small at first but with growing intensity as the   
underwater Quickening took hold on the survivor. As usual, it ended   
with a final powerful explosion but instead of shooting upwards to the   
surface of the water, it extended outward under it, shaking the   
foundation of the warehouse with force enough to knock Duncan off his   
feet. Then it was over, the water leveled out, the world was silent   
save for the squawking of annoyed birds overhead.  
  
Duncan stared out the window for several minutes, watching the water   
for some sign of life but saw nothing. He wasn't even sure who had won   
the fight though it had looked like Garthington's hand holding the   
sword and not Kyle's. Duncan made a silent promise to himself to find   
Garthington, even if it took the rest of his life. Anna, Kyle and   
however many others Garth had killed, they would be avenged.  
  
"Damn kid," Duncan shook his head sadly. "Why could you have let me   
challenge him?" He knew the reason, honor, revenge. Duncan had lost   
people who were important to him before, he knew the feeling of being   
consumed by uncontrollable rage. "I hope you have peace now, Kyle."  
  
Duncan twisted around and drew his weapon at the Immortal presence that   
filled his mind suddenly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a   
shadowy figure dart in through a side door before vanishing behind a   
pressing machine of some sort.  
  
"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." Duncan called out, expecting   
Garthington to charge from the darkness. "Come out Garthington, let's   
finish this."  
  
"Don't you ever get tired of saying that so much?" Methos' mocking   
voice called back.  
  
Stepping out of the shadows, Methos shuffled up to MacLeod and Joe   
stepped through the side door.  
  
"Where'd everyone go?" Joe asked, taking a cautious look around.  
  
"There's Anna," Methos replied almost casually, pointing a slim finger   
at the female corpse on the ground. "Where's Kyle? He stole my gun."  
  
Joe noticed Duncan's watery eyes because he asked grimly, "where's the   
body?"  
  
"In the water," Duncan replied quietly, eyes downcast. "he's in the   
water. Garthington is gone."  
  
"What did you do?" Methos demanded, grabbing MacLeod by the collar.  
  
"Nothing," Duncan said, making no effort to break free of Methos' firm   
grasp. "They fought, there was nothing I could do."  
  
"You could have stopped them," Methos yelled. "You're a better fighter   
than Kyle, you could've stopped Garthington."  
  
"Damn down," Joe said firmly, pushing Methos' chest. "Let him explain."  
  
Methos took a reluctant step back and glared hard at the Highlander,   
waiting for his explanation.  
  
"Kyle shot me and challenged Garthington," Duncan spoke softly. "Kyle   
was winning but they fell out the window into the water and then -" He   
trailed off.  
  
Methos turned away from MacLeod and spied Kyle's sword, still embedded   
in the concrete. Quickly moving to it, he pulled it out and with his   
back to his friends, he studied it silently, holding it to his chest.  
  
"I don't suppose he had the foresight to leave my gun laying around,   
did he?" Methos asked, turning back to face his friends. Whatever he   
had been feeling was again buried under the mask of passivity and   
neutrality he habitually wore.  
  
"Methos," Duncan began. "I'm -"  
  
"Sorry?" Methos interrupted, "don't bother. It happens. We're Immortal,   
it happens."  
  
"I'll put every Watcher I've got on Garthington," Joe assured both men.   
"When he surfaces, we'll have him."  
  
"Whatever," Methos shrugged dismissively. "I don't do revenge."  
  
"What about Kyle?" Joe asked.  
  
"What about him? He's gone, Joe. It won't bring him back if I kill a   
thousand. he's dead."  
  
~~  
  
Duncan MacLeod and Joe Dawson walked slowly along the loose   
gravel path in Seacouver's primary cemetery, not talking, each lost in   
his own thoughts. As they reached the hill where Kyle's grave was   
located Duncan felt the buzz of another Immortal. Upon reaching the   
top, Duncan saw Methos sprawled over a wooden bench next to the grace,   
laying on his back and humming to himself softly. The Watchers had   
spent the last week looking for Kyle's body and Garthington but thus   
far, neither had been found so Kyle's grave remained empty.  
  
"How did you get a cemetery plot when there was no body?" Joe asked,   
trying to make conversation.  
  
"Made a few calls," Duncan answered curtly.  
  
"Oh," Joe nodded thoughtfully.  
  
At their approach, Methos sat up and smiled, "hey guys."  
  
"I didn't think you'd be here this early," Duncan said.  
  
"Do you want a few minutes?" Joe asked kindly, "we could come back if   
you want some time alone."  
  
"I always want time alone," Methos replied straightfaced. "But its no   
problem, I've been here all night."  
  
"Oh, uh, why?" Duncan asked over his shoulder, kneeling to deposit a   
small bundle of flowers on Kyle's headstone. Kyle Pierson, it read. A   
friend.  
  
"Just in case he decided to show up," Methos shrugged.  
  
"Who? Garthington?" Joe asked. "There's been no sign of him since last   
week, we figure he skipped town."  
  
"Kyle," Methos replied frankly, secretly enjoying the confused and   
concerned looks on his friends' faces.  
  
"Methos," Duncan replied, dropping to his knees at the old man's feet.   
"Kyle is gone, remember?"  
  
"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot, boyscout." Methos warned, "he's   
not dead."  
  
"Methos," Joe said, sitting beside the oldest Immortal, concerned for   
his state of mind.  
  
"Did you find a body? No." Methos continued.  
  
"I know how hard it must be to take," Duncan said kindly but firmly. "I   
saw his Quickening. I'm sorry, I don't like it any more than you do."  
  
"You saw a Quickening," Methos corrected. "Here, shut-up and read   
this," Methos pulled a piece of neatly folded paper from his coat and   
handed it to Duncan before walking away.  
  
Exchanging worried looks with Joe, Duncan opened the paper and read it   
outloud.   
  
"Adam," Duncan read. "Sorry to break into your place like this but I   
needed my sword back, I also took another set of your clothes because   
mine are, damp. Do me a favor, tell Joe I'm sorry about not saying   
good-bye before taking off. Make up an excuse for me or just show this   
to him. Tell MacLeod that he doesn't have to worry about Garthington   
anymore, I'm sure he'll 'surface' eventually. And, sorry about Anna,   
she fought well. Finely, to you, Pops. I had hoped to see you again   
before I left but I guess I need some time to myself, I'll be back   
someday.   
  
Don't stand beside my grave and weep,  
  
For I'm not there, I do not sleep,  
  
I am a thousand winds that blow,  
  
I am the diamond's glint on snow,   
  
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,  
  
I am the gentle autumn's rain.  
  
  
  
When you awaken in morning's hush,  
  
I am the swift uplifting rush,  
  
of quiet birds in circle flight,  
  
I am soft stars that shine at night,  
  
Don't stand beside my grave and cry,  
  
I am not there. I did not die." Duncan finished reading and looked up   
at Joe, "Its signed Kyle Pierson."  
  
"Nice poem," Joe nodded thoughtfully. "I've never thought of Kyle as a   
poet."  
  
"I think there's a lot nobody knows about Kyle," Duncan said sincerely.   
"But he didn't write the poem."  
  
"Who did?" Joe asked, taking the letter from Duncan to read for   
himself.  
  
"I don't actually remember," Duncan grinned and shrugged. Suddenly in a   
good mood.  
  
"Well, it fits the bill," Joe shrugged. "I'd almost think that whoever   
wrote it knew about Immortals."  
  
Duncan didn't reply but Joe noticed the twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"So now what do we do with the tombstone?" Joe laughed.  
  
"Save it I guess, give it to Methos for his birthday." Duncan grinned.  
  
"I feel like a beer," Joe said, clapping MacLeod on the back. "I'm   
buying."  
  
  
The End  
  
**   
  
I really don't know who wrote that poem, I tried to find the original   
book that I copied it out of but it has disappeared on me. But, if   
someone DOES know who wrote it, please E-mail me and I'll give   
appropriate credit.   
  
Cynergy@home.com 


End file.
